


Snap A Picture

by hinatella



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday, Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9096586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinatella/pseuds/hinatella
Summary: Two years ago, you would have found Victor Nikiforov alone, reclused, with nothing to keep himself company but the echoes of his apartment talking back at him as the sound of his voice resonates in the big, big room.But this year, things are different.This year, Victor is celebrating with Yuuri by his side.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my secret santa gift to Owl from the Margarita Cult! I hope you enjoy this!! Merry Christmas ♥

Two years ago, you would have found Victor Nikiforov alone, reclused, with nothing to keep himself company but the echoes of his apartment talking back at him as the sound of his voice resonates in the big, big room.

 

Oh, and Maccachin is there. Victor could never forget his only best friend, who's there in the happy times when he's running on high tides, and the low, when the prick of tears sting so badly he's left blinded.

 

He celebrates this time of year alone, and has done so for a while now. It's just him, his dog, his soulless flat, and this tiny cupcake he buys for himself because he feels he at least deserves that much.

 

That was two years ago.

 

This year, things are different.

 

This year, Victor is celebrating with Yuuri by his side and love filling his heart near- _bursting_.

 

This year, Yuuri moves into Victor's flat in St. Petersburg, and suddenly the space doesn't feel so immense that it suffocates him with the silence.

 

This year, Yuuri moves in and Victor finds a million and one more reason to love him, as impossible as that sounds. But it's true; Victor could write a book.

 

He finds out that Yuuri is a restless sleeper; he tosses and turns like he is the sea and the moon is pulling his tides with violent force. He keeps moving until Victor wraps a strong arm around his torso. Then, his arms unconsciously wrap around Victor too, an anchor to keep his dream-filled body afloat.

 

He learns that Yuuri cries at romantic comedies. It's so endearing, the way he pushes his glasses up into the curls of his hair and frantically wipes the evidence from his eyes.

 

_("Yuuri, are you crying?" Vistor asks, amused lilt in his tone._

 

_"No!" Yuuri always answers, voice wet with the residual tears. "It was cute, okay?")_

 

He picks up on the fact that Yuuri can be a bit of a neat freak. Victor drops his clothes on any available surface when he's tired, and Yuuri will chew him out for this. Despite that, little bits of Yuuri's things end up everywhere anyway, a testament to the fact that he's _here_ and he's _real_ and Victor isn't just trapped in a never-ending, surreal, _amazing,_ hope-it-doesn't-end illusion. There's the pair of toothbrushes in the porcelain toothbrush holder next to the bathroom sink; there's his little trinkets and souvenirs he insists on placing on shelves; there's the framed photos of his family and friends and _himself_ , smile wide like the clean blue sky on a cloudless day. The one candid shot Victor took once back in Barcelona hangs on the wall, too. Yuuri's pretty eyelashes hang like a frame around his wide, brown eyes as he stares directly into the lens. Hands down, it's Victor's favorite picture of him.

 

Victor also learns that it doesn't take much for Yuuri to get him to do anything he wants, no matter how ridiculous the request. All it takes is the bat of an eye, the little pout of his lips, and Victor is already gone. (However, he knows that this is a two-way street. He knows that Yuuri has just as hard a time saying no to things that'll make him happy, just like Victor.)

 

This fact holds true even now, when Yuuri holds two things in his hand: Maccachin's leash and a grocery shopping list.

 

"Yuuri," he starts, eyebrows raised in mild disbelief. "It's ten o'clock."

 

"Yeah?" Yuuri says, like he doesn't see the problem with that.

 

"At night."

 

"Yes, okay. I know it's late, but he hasn't had his walk today because I accidentally fell asleep when I meant to walk him. And the inside of the fridge is looking kind of _sad_."

 

A long, drawn out sigh leaves his lips. "Yuuri..."

 

And there it is. The proverbial bullet that shoots through Victor's paper thin resolve. The _pout_ and _puppy eyes_ combo.

 

Another sigh stretches from his mouth, as well as his arms as his hands reach for the items in Yuuri's hands.

 

So he finds him doing just that, at ten-fifteen p.m. on December 24th. Victor is a little confused; he'd thought Yuuri would've wanted to sleep in tonight and cuddle, or something, the day before his birthday. Maybe he'd wait up till midnight hits just so he's the very first person to wish him a happy birthday. Victor imagines Yuuri would have learned how to say it in Russian so it's that much more special. He smiles at the thought. That's definitely a thing Yuuri would do.

 

Maccachin seems ecstatic about all of this, tail wagging as he walks ahead with a hop to his steps.

 

"Do you think Yuuri forgot it was my birthday tomorrow?" Victor asks Maccachin.

 

Maccachin barks in response and continues on his merry way.

 

Victor falls into pensive thought, like he's actually considering Maccachin's words of dog wisdom. (He is.) "Hm, you're right. There's no way. He made a big deal about it last year while we were in Hasetsu too, even when I told him not to."

 

When they reach the grocery store, Victor skims the grocery list for the first time.

 

 _Dog food, eggs, oranges, apples, bread_....All generic things. He picks up a basket and walks the aisles, eager to get back home and into Yuuri's soft, warm arms.

 

This shouldn't take long. Hopefully.

 

✂

 

Inside, Yuuri is screaming.

 

This was probably an insane idea, but it's too late to back out now. It was too late when he'd given Victor an excuse to leave the house; it was too late when he'd sent a text to everyone saying _the bunny is out of the hat;_ and it's definitely too late now, as Yurio, Mila, Georgi, and Yakov crowd around the living room, setting up the decorations.

 

For whatever reason, Yuuri had thought it would be a good idea to purchase enough streamers and balloons and lights and tinsel to fill the entire goddamn country of Russia.

 

Now, he's filled with regret.

 

There's no way they'll finish on time. It's already eleven o'clock and Victor should be home soon. Should he have made the list longer?

 

"Katsudon, stop _pacing_. You're going to step on a balloon."

 

Yuuri stops and notices the path he feet has cleared in the sea of multicolored, helium-filled plastic. He must've kicked them without realizing. "Sorry."

 

"If you're so worried about Victor coming home early, just text him extra things to bring home," Mila suggests from the kitchen. She's wearing an apron as she bakes the cake. There's frosting on the corner of her lipstick-red lips.

 

Had he been speaking his thoughts out loud? He's not the picture of calm he'd wish to be—an open book with his expression written all over his body. Typical.

 

Yuuri thinks over Mila's words for a moment before answering, "What though? I must've listen every possible thing we'd ever need for the next month. I even asked for three jars of hazelnut spread, and we still have two unopened ones in the pantry."

 

"Tell him to get obscure things," Georgi helpfully supplies as he helps Yakov put up the tinsel and lights.

 

"Like what?"

 

Georgi shrugs. "Things you can only find in small shops. Flower vases or," he gestures vaguely at the air with his free hand while the other holds up tinsel, "weird shampoo brands."

 

"What are some weird shampoo brands?"

 

"I have no idea. Make something up."

 

Yuuri sighs and plops down on the couch like dead weight. "I feel bad enough for making him go out a few hours before his _birthday_ , but this? This is too much."

 

"Well you better do something quick because we're not even close to finishing," Yurio says. "Might as well send him to find some weird ingredient or something and—"

 

Yuuri gasps, struck with an idea. "That's it!"

 

"What's it?"

 

"I'll tell him to get dashi stock, and since we're in St. Petersberg, it'll be hard to find, right?"

 

"Oh, yeah," Mila answers, “there’s one specialty shop about a twenty minute drive from here.”

 

He nods, biting his lip in contemplation. “That’s so far away for this time of night though…”

 

A jaded sigh sounds from his left. “For _fucks_ sake.” Then his phone is immediately swiped from his hand. Before Yuuri even has time to process what just happened, his phone is being tossed right into his face again. “There. You’re welcome.”

 

With confusion, Yuuri looks from his phone, to Yurio, and back again. His message app is open, right on the contact labelled _Vitya_ followed by several sparkly hearts.

 

“You guys are so _gross_. Ugh,” Yurio says, making a face as he uses the balloon pump.

 

Yuuri doesn’t know what to say as he stares at the message written two minutes ago, right above the _received_ notification.

 

_bring me dashi stock pls thnx babe xoxo_

 

“Yurio, _why_?!”

 

✂

 

Victor had searched everywhere. _Everywhere_ . He’d looked up specialty shops in the area on his phone. He’d called a cab. And he’s _exhausted_ by the time he gets home at twelve forty-five a.m. with an arm full of grocery bags, Maccachin following close behind.

 

The first thing he’d do, Victor decides as he sticks the keys into the lock, is drag Yuuri with him into bed and curl up in the warmth of him and the sheets and _sleep_. It’s all he thinks about with his half-lidded eyes. He expects to see the lights turned off save for the lamps in the living room because Yuuri likes to wait up for him on the couch sometimes when he’s running particularly late. (And Victor admittedly does the same).

 

What Victor gets instead, is the shock of his life: a sudden bombardment of party poppers and streamers and the raucous yell of “surprise!” and one of those cheesy cone birthday hats makes it onto his head at some point. He isn’t sure when.

 

The events are all a blur, really. Literally. His eyes end up blurry.

 

Victor cries.

 

It’s a spectacle. Yurio laughs at him. Mila and Georgi gives him a hug. Victor embraces Yakov for comfort, whether Yakov wants to accept it or not. And Yuuri—

 

Victor furrows his eyebrows through his tears when he spots the flash of light in his vision. When he rubs his eyes to see clearly, he notices with crystal clarity the polaroid camera pointed right at him, and the photo that it prints a second later.

 

“Yuuri,” Victor says. “What are you doing?”

 

“This is an important occasion. The day Victor Nikiforov cried tears of joy on his birthday,” Yuuri quibs excitedly. Victor can’t even bring himself to be annoyed when Yuri looks like this, smiling fondly, eyes the shape of beautiful crescents.

 

Yurio laughs harder.

 

They give him gifts after Victor blows the 29-shaped candle on his birthday cake—it’s marble cake, his _favorite—_ and he loves them. He loves the scarf Georgi gets him, and the nice watch Mila buys, and the flower vase of lilies Yakov sets on the coffee table, and the tiger print tie Yurio presents. Well. Victor suspects Yurio got whatever he’d have liked as a present himself. Victor appreciates the thought, anyway.

 

(He asks Yuuri if they can burn it in choppy Japanese. Yuuri says no.)

 

Yuuri gets him a photo album already half filled with photos and scribbles and tiny doodles like a makeshift scrapbook. He grabs the polaroid of Victor crying, writes in the white space _12/25_ , adds the picture into an last empty slot, then hands the gift over to Victor. The 29-year-old is full of everything. Of life, and love, and fresh tears in his eyes because no one’s ever gone through _this_ much length for him.

 

Everyone finally leaves at two-thirty a.m. The exhaustion comes crawling back again, setting on his shoulders and causing his posture to slump with it. He feels arms wrap around his torso from behind.

 

“Yuuri, you didn’t have to do all of this. I told you, it’s no big deal,” he mumbles like he’s annoyed, but really the smile on his face is so wide he fears it’ll freeze in place that way. Not that he would mind; it’ll be a memento of just how happy Yuuri makes him.

 

Yuuri just shrugs in response. “I know. But I wanted to do this anyway. You still enjoyed it right?”

 

Victor turns in Yuuri’s arms, and traps him in a cozy hug. “Of course I did. Thank you.”

 

Yuuri smiles again, then an impish glint flashes in his eyes, and that smile is suddenly a smirk. “Vitya,” he drawls, thick, black eyelashes falling over his irises. “I still have one more present for you.”

 

His heart stutters in his chest. “Oh?”

 

“Close your eyes.”

 

Victor does. He waits with puckered lips, and he doesn’t wait for long when something loops around his neck. _Oh_.

 

A camera shutter sounds.

 

He snaps his blue eyes open, stares down at the ugly tiger print tie that mysteriously appeared around his neck, and up at his fiance, who’s waving the polaroid in his hand again.

 

“Yuu  _ri.”_

 

Yuuri steps into his space and presses a kiss to his cheek, tender and loving. “Love you. Happy Birthday.”

 

Victor sighs, because he knows he can’t be mad. Not when Yuuri wraps an arm around his middle again like he belongs there, a perfect fit. “Love you too, _babe_.”

 

“Ah…” Yuuri burns when the realization hits him. Victor tries so hard, _so hard,_ not to break down with laughter. “I can explain.”

 

He loves him like the moon loves the stars. The definite _snap_ of a polaroid could never be enough to capture it all.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on twitter @hinatella


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